Requiem
by Ava Cabot
Summary: Shayera goes to visit someone who should be dead. Some spoilers for A Better World.


Ava Cabot

Requiem

A Justice League fic

A/N: Shayera goes in secret to visit someone who should be dead. Justice Lords universe.

Disclaimer: Blah blah blah I own nothing blah blah.

-----

Black is the new white. Violence is the result for uprisings.

Public lobotomization is the answer for insubordination.

I continually tell myself that it never should've ended up like this.

That notion isn't very reassuring in times like these. I know that the Earth didn't ask for total dictatorship from us. I don't know why we still even have absolute control over the planet and her people. I can wish all I want that there was democracy back in the world, but I have to realize eventually that the world just can't be like that anymore.

"_Remember when people used to like us?"_

Fear is a complicated emotion. You can be scared of a snarling dog, heights, or even just a tiny spider. True fear exists when you feel threatened every time a shadow crosses over your head. True fear happens when you shrink away from going out past six in the evening, out of worry that Superman will catch you out after curfew.

Adoration is for the weak, Superman told us. I think he believes everything he says now, including the statement that what we were doing was for the good of everyone. But last time I checked, the billions of lives below us didn't vote for a dictatorship.

But I still remember people cheering us whenever we would rescue a plane from crashing into smithereens, or stop another robot from destroying a metropolitan city, or just prevent a little girl from being smashed flat by a careless driver. The League was famous for doing the right thing, no matter what.

But what was the right thing, nowadays? Was it to have absolute control over the Earth? It's only been eight months since we established this new system, and already there have been countless riots. Especially in Smallville, hometown of the enforcer himself.

To this day, no one really knows what exactly pushed Superman to finally annihilate his arch-nemesis. Luthor must've finally gotten to him, shattering the good-boy image that everyone associated with Superman.

Instead, he became a terror.

"_It didn't have to be this way."_

Wally's words still haunt me to this day. Out of all of us, he was the one with the purest heart, and the most honest intentions. He truly wanted to keep on saving the world, the people's trust completely behind him.

Even after the frying of President Luthor, Flash stayed with the League. He didn't notice the changes that had started with the President's death. Or maybe he did see them, and just tried to deny that the League, and the world, was changing drastically.

At first it was just an unveiling of new costumes, which the people took as an unfolding of a better League. What they didn't know was that it a sign of a new League, but not necessarily a better one. Diana lopped most of her ebony locks, slowly breaking her ties with Batman. He retreated further into his recluse state, now leaving the cave even less frequently than he had before, a feat all in itself. Diana began spending more time with Superman, briefly maintaining a more-than-friends relationship with him for a short time. That quickly died out, but it showed how much Diana, Warrior Princess of the Amazon had changed. The Diana pre-assassination would've never done that.

No one could deny the inevitable.

And yet John and I tried to act as if nothing were happening. We were both as naïve as Flash was, trying to hold on to what we remembered best about the League, when we still actually fought for real justice.

"_Nobody understands! This isn't supposed to happen. We're the good guys, remember?"_

"_We can't go around playing God. We're supposed to protect the people, not make them scared of us!"_

"_What's happened to everyone?"_

What has happened to everyone, indeed.

Our battle with the alternate dimension League made me start thinking, which wasn't necessarily a good thing. The lie that we told them about our Flash, our Wally West, they actually believed that Luthor had him executed.

It was the perfect story.

After all, who wasn't a good scapegoat for evil _except_ Luthor? Lex Luthor, whose goal in life was to destroy the Justice League, annihilating the beloved Flash, was a believable story. Naturally, the people bought into the story, and barely questioned our statement regarding Wally West's death.

And yet, Wally West wasn't really dead.

After Arkham had been halfway filled with lobotomized enemies, the general populace stopped keeping track of who went in. No one wanted to read about whose brain turned to mush that day. That was when opportunity, in Lord Superman's mind, struck.

Flash had been shot by President Luthor, which was no lie. But he managed to survive, kept on life-support machines and hidden away in the darkest corners of the Watchtower. Only J'onn and Lord Superman were allowed to enter his room, as they took on a nasty combination of healing his body, but breaking his soul. The slick speedster eventually wasted away, and became just like the insane villains we threw in Arkham weekly. When he tried to fight the mind-numbing sedatives, Superman was there to beat his spirit back down.

Wally West died on December 30. Prisoner 33015 was welcomed into Arkham Asylum that very night, underneath a cloak of darkness and bribes. Since no one had seen Wally without his mask, it was easy to pass him off as a deadbeat criminal. The guards learned to ignore his ravings, which involved him calling himself a superhero named Flash. They paced nervously when he screamed bloody revenge on Lord Superman in his sleep, claiming that he was the reason why his brain didn't work anymore. They became misty-eyed when he whispered for an angel named Birdnose in his sleep.

No one knew who Birdnose was, except that Prisoner 33015 said that she was his friend, and who get him out of Arkham someday. He was always waiting to see his angel, described as having hair like Ivy's red roses, and shiny green eyes. After hearing his claims, the guards could only think of Hawkgirl when he said this, but learned not to ask me whenever I came to see Prisoner 33015. They knew if they did inquire, I'd get angry. And when a member of the Justice Lords got pissed off, people generally hid, rather than face our wrath. I was no different.

I landed at the Arkham front gate, the wind undercurrents rushing through my feathers. A steady breeze whistled through my mask, tempting me to take off the ugly helmet and let my hair fly freely. But I couldn't; appearances had to be maintained. I shook off the rebellious thought, stepping forward to key in my access code. The security guard at the gatehouse nodded to me, uneasily buzzing me inside.

"Evening, ma'am," he said quietly, tipping his hat.

"Thanks, Frank," I replied, nodding back as the gates creaked open.

"Have a good one, ma'am."

Repeatedly I asked him not to call me ma'am, but my status in the Justice Lords presumed otherwise. But I wasn't here to make a social call—I was here to see a fallen friend.

Ivy didn't look up as I passed her, instead continuing to click her shears aimlessly. The rosebush she had been cultivating looked somewhat dismayed, but still resembled something plant-like. I avoided her dull eyes, eyes that were once had the same spark and color as mine. Now they were dead, and I could not let anyone else's gaze haunt me.

Muzak played softly in the lobby area, which doubled as the "activities room" during the evening. A television blared off to the side, where Joker, Harley, and the Ultra Humanite stared emptily. All were dressed in the same drab clothing, the never-changing shade of gray. The sound of my wings folding back startled them, as if a distant memory a fight with me had arisen. I almost wanted one of them to fling themselves at me, and start attacking with every bit of strength they had.

But they didn't, and I continued on my merry way. The three guards posted to the walls didn't look at me either, as I wandered down the hallway towards Wally's cell. His was in the ward for "special patients", which meant that no one was supposed to know he existed. Only two rooms existed in this secret area, one for Wally, the other empty. That empty room stood as a threat to any other member of the Justice Lords, should they try to rebel against the rules.

Chris and Lance stood rigidly beside each side of Wally's door, stun guns and tasers attached snugly to their belts. A rifle full of tranquilizers lay cradled in their arms, as they watched me approach the door. At least they had the balls to look at me.

"Hawkgirl to see Prisoner 33015," I said curtly.

"We need your confirmation from Lord Superman," said Lance, extending his hand.

I placed the letter in his hand, the letter that Batman had preciously forged. God save him if Lord Superman or Diana found out.

Both scanned the document, and my heartbeat raced along with every scan. It had always worked, without fail.

"You're clear," Chris confirmed, handing back the letter. My heart slowed down, as Lance punched in the key code. The rank smell of dried sweat and unwashed Wally met my nose, as I walked inside.

"Hasn't he had a shower?" I growled, my hand moving towards my mace. "His quarters are a mess too. Have you been taking proper care of him?"

"Our orders are to guard the door, ma'am. Those were Lord Superman's orders."

"I don't care," I snapped, throwing a dirty shirt at them. I want this room and the prisoner clean next time, got it? Or it'll be on your heads."

"We'll need your energy mace, Hawkgirl," said Chris tentatively. "Lord Superman's orders, remember?"

That was part of the lovely supervision instructions. No weapons allowed, lest I break open a wall and escape with my comrade.

"Don't touch it," I sharply, throwing it into the wall. I missed, apparently, because Chris' head was two inches away from it. Lance let out a small gasp, as Chris fell to the floor shaking.

"No interruptions," I said, shrugging. "I'll be out eventually."

I went in, the door slamming closed behind me. My eyes burned at the odor in the air, as I tried to make out the lumps around me. One of them had to be Wally, curled up. I poked around, feeling fabrics until I at last touched human flesh. The body shifted away, his right arm reaching out to touch my mask.

"It's okay, Wally," I said softly, pulling him into my arms. "It's only Birdnose, okay? No one else can come in."

"Birdnose," he repeated, allowing me to hug him. I clung to his thin frame, picking him up and setting his body on the cot. I sat next to him, running my hands through his hair.

"Where is Birdnose's friend?" he asked, feeling around my face. His hands grasped my helmet, and he slowly removed it. I placed my mask on the floor, letting my hair fan out. It was shorter than before, this time nearly two inches from my shoulder. He fingered a piece of it, frowning. "It's not long," he said.

"I cut it. Do you like it?"

He shrugged. "If Birdnose likes it, then I like it."

The simple way he said those words made my eyes water. He looked at me hopefully, clasping my hands in his. "Will Birdnose's friend come again to see Wally? He brought me…he brought me…" He scrunched his forehead in concentration, trying to recall the gift that John had brought two weeks ago.

"It was a toy, honey. An action figure."

Wally smiled. "Yeah…it looked like your hair. And mine."

John had managed to smuggle in a few items, using his ring to avoid their detection. A small Flash action figure was hidden behind a loose chunk in his wall. Wally managed to remember not to bring his toy out unless Birdnose was there.

"Do you want to see it?"

"Sure, Wally. Go ahead and bring out Flash."

"Flash?"

Immediately I kicked myself. Why did I bring that name up?

"I know that name," he said, struggling. "Why, Birdnose?"

The look in his eyes was unbearable. For a fleeting moment, I saw the old Wally West there, with a youthful tenacity that emanated from every fiber of him.

"Because that's who you are," I said breathlessly. "You were the Flash. You still are."

"Was I a superhero, Birdnose? Did I fight too?"

"You were the bravest of us all, Wally." He shifted to the floor, clutching my mask in his dirty hands.

"Then why don't I…know that?"

I knew I would pay dearly for this later. But I didn't care.

The door slid open behind us, and I immediately shoved Wally into the corner. I jumped into a fighting stance, arms posed to sucker punch the intruder.

John glared at me, his hands raised in surrender fashion. Chris and Lance lay stunned on the ground, my mace simmering beside them. John closed the door quietly, as I reached over and pulled Wally to his feet.

"Johnny!" Wally reached over to hug him, his hand clasped around the action figure.

"Hey, Wally," John said, smiling warmly at him. "How are you?"

"Birdnose came to visit," Wally said solemnly. "She made death threats to the men outside."

"That's my girl," John grinned, placing his arm around me. Wally grinned back, as John ruffled his hair with the other hand.

"What's going on?" I asked worriedly.

John grimaced, letting go of me. "Something's up. I think they know."

My eyes widened, as my heart sunk to the floor. "Oh God."

My worst nightmare had finally come true. I mean, I knew that visiting Wally would be dangerous, and most certainly against Lord Superman's orders. But John, Batman and I had planned everything out so meticulously. There wasn't room for errors—therefore, there were none. What would happen to three of us?

"We gotta get out of here," hissed John. "If word gets out here—"

"You're leaving?" asked Wally mildly. "Why?"

I tried to shake off my fear, smiling at him. "Johnny and I have to go for a little bit, Wally. We'll be back in a few weeks, okay? Be good."

His face was crushed as John ushered me towards the door. He held his action figure limply at his side, waving a sad good-bye to us.

I expected Lance and Chris to still be knocked out, after John slamming his fist into their chests. But there wasn't a clear way to describe the dread I felt, as the door opened to reveal the grim figures of Lord Superman and Diana. Batman stood behind them, his eyes narrowed to the thinnest of slits. His head hung like a caught criminal, hands bound in unbreakable titanium cuffs. J'onn's eyes began to glow an eerie golden color, keeping Batman's mind at a docile setting. The sight made me sick, to see three of my former friends gloating at us.

"Time to go," said Lord Superman, crossing his arms.

Wally began screeching inside the cell, his eyes nearly bulging from their sockets. It was the voice who haunted his nightmares, and he was ready to seize the opportunity to attack him. He flew out the door, knocking John and I to the ground. Diana swiftly grabbed me, wrenching my hands around into a knot. She stomped on John's ring hand, causing him to yell in pain.

Superman, unprepared for the first time, was thrown against the wall. He landed with a quiet thud beside Lance and Chris, rubbing his jaw. Wally panted heavily, releasing a blinding fury of punches. Superman calmly blocked each one, finally seizing Wally's fist in mid-air. He lifted the sobbing man above us all, hand clenched around his throat.

"_You did this!_" screamed Wally, thrashing in the air. "_I'm going to kill you!_"

The rest of us watched in horror as Superman flung Wally back inside the cell, sealing the metal shut with his heat vision. Helplessly Wally pounded at the door, cursing Superman's name to high Hell.

"We're leaving," he shouted, turning quickly and motioning to Diana and J'onn. Batman methodically followed, Diana and J'onn keeping firm grips on John and me. Superman barked orders to the guards rushing onto the scene, stating that no one was ever to visit Prisoner 33015 ever again, no matter what.

John and I could barely look at each other.

----------

With a final tie, us three turncoats were bound and gagged. J'onn stood motionless beside us, as Superman paced angrily in front.

"What were you thinking?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

I muttered an incoherent curse, grateful momentarily that my gag prevented Superman from hearing what I said.

"Hawkgirl said—" started John, halting when Superman raised his hand for silence.

"All three of you are guilty of a serious crime," he started, "Of going against my orders, visiting an area you were forbidden to see, and conspiring to overthrow the Justice Lords."

Desperately I wanted to shout at him, saying that I didn't care about breaking the rules. John was lashing against the wall, trying to spit out the rag stuffed in his mouth. Batman, the only one not gagged, raised his head.

"We don't care," he said hoarsely, J'onn's hold on him weakening. "We don't care if you kill us."

Diana glanced at Superman, her eyes somewhat pleading. She was angry at what we had done, but she obviously felt that Batman didn't deserve death. He was only helping; he didn't actually go to Arkham and tell Wally things he shouldn't have heard.

John and I were a different story, though.

"What are we going to do?" asked J'onn, reclaiming his hold on Batman.

Superman shrugged carelessly. "Carry out what we planned."

I let out a muffled string of threats, John and I desperately trying to free ourselves. Diana leaned against the wall adjacent to us, holding her head like a heavy burden. J'onn calmly led Batman from the room, who looked back at us fearfully.

I heard shrieks of agony two minutes later, as I realized why J'onn took Batman away. There was a crash, and Batman's mask rolled into the room. There were no more screams.

I guess Diana couldn't persuade Lord Superman.

"You knew the consequences," he said slowly, nodding to Diana to remove our gags. "Do you want to say anything in your defenses?"

"Look at yourself!" shouted John. "Look at what the League has become! A group of murderers, that's what we are. Wally is insane, and you killed Batman!"

"Insubordination will not be tolerated," Superman said calmly. "I'm sorry."

With a sickening twist, I remembered that he had said the exact same thing to Wally. Before…

John suddenly broke free of his bindings, reaching out to grab me closer. Instantly I began to sob wildly, as Superman's eyes became that familiar red.

"Good-bye," he murmured, before everything went black.

----------

_One week later_

Chris Armstrong rubbed his head thoughtfully, as he watched Lord Superman enter the lobby area. He was accompanied by two more Justice Lords, who in turn carried a limp body in their arms.

With a slight panic, he recognized the limp bodies.

He pretended not to react as Superman approached the desk. "G-Good morning, Lord Superman," he said, hoping that he could not see Chris' legs frantically twitching underneath the desk.

"Lord Superman checking in Prisoners 33016 and 33017." His two companions shifted forward, dropping the bodies onto the provided gurneys. Both were curled in fetal positions, one hand clasping the others. Hawkgirl and Green Lantern lay unconscious, two identical marks on their foreheads.

"Shayera Hol and John Stewart."

----------

Word count: 3,358


End file.
